


tightest crew ever

by farewelltheten



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Based off RL, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farewelltheten/pseuds/farewelltheten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course we're professional bank robbers, what do you take us for?</p><p>(A collection of short stories documenting shenanigans based on random heists and chats with my friends)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. first aid kit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We should've never let him go for that fugitive build.

"The police are sending in more units!" 

Clover let out an annoyed tsk, trying to tune out Bain's voice in her ear as she ran into a store in the now empty mall and ducked behind the counter. Dragan joined her seconds later, pulling first aid kits out of the bag over his shoulder. She gave a small nod of appreciation, until she realized that he'd put six on the counter already and didn't show any signs of stopping.

"Shite, how many o' those do you fuckin' 'ave?!"

"Fourteen," He said, now mostly distracted by arranging the first aid kits into a neat line. Clover successfully fought the urge to knock one of them over as Dragan straightened up, looking immensely proud of his work.

"Why th' 'ell would we even need tha' many?" She scoffed, just as a cloaker crashed in from a ceiling vent.


	2. falcogini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Houston makes a Freudian slip.

The car heist had gone bad - to say the least. First they'd run out of cable ties, then a guard had caught sight of the hack, then they'd run out of body bags, and then the alarm went off before they'd wanted it to. Luckily Houston had had ECMs on him, and he slapped down two in succession, just long enough to finish the hack, get the keys, and get everyone to the cars to get out.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dragan slide into a red Falcogini, Clover trailing a few yards behind him.

Houston rolled down the window of the gray one, sticking his head out. "C'mon, get inside me!"

There was a beat, just long enough for him to realize exactly what he'd said. No one could see the look of horror spreading across his face behind his mask, but he was damn sure that they were imagining it.

"I mean- _fuck_ \- I mean the fucking car, get inside the car!"

Clover eyed the door of the Falcogini for a moment, before climbing inside. He could practically see the smirk behind her mask.

"'S there somethin' you wanna admit t' me?"

"Sh-shut up!" Houston sank low into the driver's seat as he hit the gas and shot out of the dealership, hearing Dragan laughing uncontrollably from the other car.

They were never going to let him live this down.

Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is about seven times funnier in context because:  
> 1) that is an exact quote  
> 2) I was playing Clover at the time  
> 3) the guy playing Houston at the time was my boyfriend.
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	3. vulcan minigun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How is your detection _three?!_ "

No one knew how Dragan managed to carry it around the jewelry shop without getting seen - he'd pretty much walked right past the front door with the thing strapped to his back, and not one guard or civilian noticed until it was too late.

In fact, he'd done so well hiding it that Hoxton completely forgot that it was the only viable weapon on him.

"Oi, Dragan. Go do some crowd control."

Dragan practically jogged into the shop brandishing his minigun, cackling maniacally.

"Wait a mo- ...oh, fuckin' 'ell! Not this again!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and yes, this is the same guy who did the first aid fine art.


	4. paint job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100,000 health points? pfft, that's only about 20 dozers, no problem.

"Gonna be a bang!"

Clover pulled the pin from a grenade, tossing it under the Falcogini. She raised a brow as it exploded, but the car didn't budge an inch.

"What the hell do they make these out of?" Dragan muttered, lowering his grenade launcher.

"Why- this-?" came Jacket's pre-recorded response, as he almost sadly reloaded his RPG.

"'S the fuckin' paint," Clover grumbled, fishing out another grenade, "'s probably bomb repellant or something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be fair, this was _before_ any of us noticed the "Gensec grenade proof" sticker on the cars.
> 
> and sadly, we never got to destroy any of the cars. :c


	5. akimbo bernetti 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought you could only use one at a time!"

Dallas didn't dwell too long on his thoughts when he noticed Wolf staring at him sometimes during assaults. He never knew what was on the heister's mind half of the time, and frankly, he didn't think he wanted to know unless it was something about the heist they were on. 

So he was thoroughly surprised when, during a bank heist that had gone loud, Wolf suddenly turned to him in the middle of shooting down a group of SWAT and yelled at him, sounding almost offended.

"How do you have _two_ guns?"

"Uh," Dallas glanced at his pistols, then back at Wolf, "it's real easy, buddy. You just pick up a second gun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my sister never pays much attention to skills or inventory.


	6. rpg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> $4.99 well spent.

"Are you _sure_ you wanna pack that for this job?" Dallas raised an eyebrow at Houston's loadout as he tried to put it all away for the van ride to the location, being very careful with how he held everything.

"I just got it, I wanna try it out." Houston shrugged. "Maybe it'll come in handy with bulldozers."

 _Sure,_ Dallas thought, narrowing his eyes disapprovingly before he walked away.

Later, during the actual job, Dallas had to begrudgingly admit that the RPG was actually of good use, after Houston had blasted a bulldozer into bits, as promised. Considering the cops always found them when they tried to cook meth, it made a good line of defense against them so long as one of them had ammo bags on hand.

Or so he thought, until a taser got to Houston while he had it in his hands. He doubled over when the electric shock hit him, and the next thing he heard was an ominous click of a trigger. The resulting blast scattered nearby heisters and cops like rag dolls in every direction, including Dallas, who'd been standing only a few feet away.

"I fucking told you so!" He yelled from the floor, hearing Houston give a weak and apologetic "Sorry..." from where he ended up draped on the outside staircase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, _so_ disappointed none of us were recording that playthrough of Cook-Off.  
>  and yeah, we definitely failed that contract.


	7. whistle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Little Wolfie, come with me!"

Sokol was good at whistling.

He was proud of it. Most of all, he could whistle loud and far enough for the rest of the crew to hear it through his mask and the sound of explosions, gunfire, and screaming civilians. It became second nature to whistle before he called the rest of the crew, to catch their attention just in case he thought they wouldn't hear him shouting. No one thought anything of it, only responded shortly after he did.

Except for one day, after a bank robbery had gone loud and the crew had survived a particularly heavy assault before piling into the van. Sokol couldn't count the number of times he'd called for his crewmates, only that he'd done it a lot, especially just before they left. He was covered in blood - most of it cops', some of it his own - still feeling slightly dizzy as the van stopped at the safehouse and they started to unload the loot bags from the back. He didn't think anything of Dragan approaching him until the older heister suddenly rested the blunt edge of his cleaver on Sokol's chest, pressing the metal against him as he spoke.

"Whistle at me again, _lijepi dečko_ *, and this knife is going to be swinging at you a lot faster, and with the sharp edge down."

Dragan removed the cleaver and stalked off into the safehouse, leaving behind a somewhat confused Sokol.

Maybe he'd overdone the whistling a little. That wasn't an honest threat, right?

The next heist they went on, Sokol chose to call Dragan from a safe distance before booking it to the van.

Just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *lijepi dečko = pretty boy  
> YAY FOR GRATUITOUS CROATIAN
> 
> my friends consider Sokol and Dragan "slavic buddies," but I picture Dragan getting pissed at him whistling at everyone every now and then.


End file.
